


Ray/Ray ficbits from years back

by sli



Category: due South
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-04-13
Updated: 2007-08-26
Packaged: 2018-01-26 06:43:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1678544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sli/pseuds/sli





	1. Heat

(The power just went out for almost two hours, taking my modem with it. It was TERRIBLE.)

I'm jumping on the [](http://ds-aprilfools.livejournal.com/profile)[**ds_aprilfools**](http://ds-aprilfools.livejournal.com/) bandwagon, but cheating by emptying out my WIP file. Prepare yourself for fragments and stray ideas that never quite turned into fic. I asked [](http://omphale23.livejournal.com/profile)[**omphale23**](http://omphale23.livejournal.com/) for a quick bit of advice and she got roped in for beta duty. Teach her to be pleasant and helpful.

Heat, Ray/Ray frag, PG, prompt 3: secret lives.

  
Ray wasn't looking at Kowalski. Kowalski wasn't looking at Ray. Should've worked fine, but Kowalski _really_ wasn't looking at Ray. Kowalski was looking at the inside of his eyelids, Ray guessed. His sunglasses were hooked onto his crappy t-shirt, and he was sprawled back on the bench, his face turned up to the fucking fiery death orb up there, all of him perfectly still for once, except for his chest rising with each breath. The glare made him look weird; overbright and washed out. Ray remembered he wasn't looking and shifted his eyes away, watched some kids up to something across the park.

They were sitting close enough to the fountain that he could feel the mist on his overheated skin. It felt nice enough, but couldn't be good for the threads. That water was probably full of chlorine and algae and rat piss.

He sat up, stretching out his back. When that failed to get a response, he sighed noisily and plucked the sandwich wrapper out of Kowalski's fingers, then went to balance the wadded-up paper on top the overflowing, smelly, buzzing trash can. Still felt weird to throw crusts away. He considered tossing them for the pigeons, but pigeons were as as bad as rats, and neither were anything like Dief.

Returning to the bench, he prodded one of Kowalski's legs with the toe of his shoe. "Kowalski, time to work-ski."

Kowalski raised a hand and flapped it dismissively at Ray.

"Investigation? Interviews? Welsh ripping us both new ones? Any of this ring a bell?"

Kowalski's head was tilted so far back it looked almost painful. A drop of sweat slipped down the side of his neck.

Ray looked away and said, "The hairs in my nose are on fire. I can feel them burning with every breath. You trying to kill me here or what?"

Kowalski snorted and stretched hugely, something in his back making a cracking sound, then pushed himself up off the bench. He wobbled on his feet for a second, frowning against the light, and Ray didn't reach out to steady him.

 

 

 

** "fiery death orb" TM S, by way of [](http://omphale23.livejournal.com/profile)[**omphale23**](http://omphale23.livejournal.com/)  


My prompt [table.](http://slidellra.livejournal.com/35664.html)


	2. Heat

370 words or so.

 

After, Kowalski drops right off, plastered against Ray's back, his breath hot on Ray's neck. Ray lies still, willing himself to sleep, but ends up squinting, trying to identify gray shapes in the dark. It probably isn't a good sign that when he looks at Kowalski's dark bedroom, he sees Vegas and Stella: a handgun and silencer that turns out to be a crumpled tie he knows for a fact hasn't been worn in months; her jewelry glinting on the nightstand, actually Kowalski's keys.

He rolls back over, making Kowalski grumble and pull fretfully at the blanket, and props himself up on an elbow to look at where he is now.

Kowalski's lips are fuller than ever, the scab over his eyebrow mostly gone. It's freezing out tonight, and Kowalski's windows don't do much to keep out the cold, so he's buried himself in the blanket, tugging it up to his chin.

Ray reaches out and pulls the blanket down, revealing Kowalski's neck and collarbone and shoulder, all lined up in a sleepy curve.

" _Fckff,_ " Kowalski mumbles, yanking the blanket back, and he is so himself it's a relief. Ray reaches out to touch his ear, tracing a finger along the curve, trying to feel the old piercing. When Kowalski tries to slap him away, he ends up whacking himself in the side of the head, making Ray snort.

"Hate you," Kowalski says, not opening his eyes.

Ray leans down and brushes his lips along Kowalski's cheek, the stubble almost long enough to feel soft, then moves on to his mouth. Taking advantage of the sleep-easy give of Kowalski's lips, Ray slips inside, searching out the taste of himself. It's like Kowalski is all his right now; Ray doesn't share him with anybody, not even Kowalski himself.

Kowalski grumbles again, the quiet sound loud against Ray's lips, and then he's kissing back, his hand finding Ray's side and pulling him closer. It's better than insomnia, lying here kissing Kowalski. Ray figures he can do this until morning, just trace those lips over and over, memorizing them with his mouth.

 

*


	3. Impulse

Title: Impulse  
Pairing/Fandom: Ray/Ray, _due South_  
Rating: PG-13  
Length: 275 words  
Prompt: 5 senses: hearing, sight, touch.  
Now available as [podfic](http://slidellra.livejournal.com/49290.html).

"Shut up," Ray says again, but he's saying it to himself and he's not listening.

He didn't plan this, but he's doing it, and fuck that it's impossible. That it's the next impossible beyond the last one, and he doesn't have any lives left to be screwing up. He's furious and kind of relieved that this must be it, the end of the line. Everything is finally going to break and snap, and he's going to snap with it.

He's got his hand over Kowalski's mouth--did that first off, before the double beat in his ears and Kowalski's shoulder bony as he pushed--because he knows Kowalski and he can't hear that voice right now. Everything else is too much already, so Ray pushes him down, pins him tight against the seat because something needs to be stable in this car, and it sure as hell isn't him.

It's not Kowalski, either, because it isn't Kowalski's voice in his head, yelling "Straight" and "You fuck-up" and "In the front seat? Are you crazy?"

No, Kowalski just bends before him, curving into the seat, making room for Ray and Ray's body and Ray's pounding heart and this urge that just took him, finally grabbed him and shook him and wouldn't let go. Kowalski's breath is hot against Ray's hand and his eyes are glittering and too smart, and Kowalski is _daring_ him, has been daring him all along.

So Ray didn't see this coming, isn't the one who gets to play it cool. But he learned years ago not to back down from a challenge, even if it comes from himself. So he doesn't.

 

*


End file.
